


The Unluckiest Number

by Jamilton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: -cue agonized fanhuman screaming-, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Humor, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, SoM - Freeform, Soulmates, This is them being mean to eachother, This isn't my usual 'they secretly friends from the start', Which warrents this tag, You're Welcome, but it takes a second or so, well they get along in the end because gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-04 16:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamilton/pseuds/Jamilton
Summary: The thought of color - and, by further extension, soulmates - had never been a set priority in Alex's life.





	The Unluckiest Number

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LinesAndColors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinesAndColors/gifts).

> @LinesAndColors - I deadass waited until I had 12 other fics, since I thought it would be appropriate to gift you this ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Check out my beta and the person I dislike the most in the world; nyamjoonieaus
> 
> Thanks, reptile

The thought of color - and, by further extension, _soulmates_ \- had never been a set priority in Alex's life.

There were sporadic moments when had Alex wondered how the world would look when covered in a cloak of brightening hues, and would occasionally lament not knowing the difference between green and red. Even his eye color remained unknown, despite logically knowing that they were brown, he couldn't _understand_ what this actually meant.

Disregarding his blatant curiosity, there was never a drive to discover who he was an apparent perfect match to. Besides, if Alex met whoever was his soulmate was, he was almost certain that they would agree on most, if not all significant subjects.

So, for the most part, Alex was content with how he lived his life. Since there was a sharp increase in population density and travelling, people are reported to meet their soulmates far less and at an older age, which lead to the rise in almost every piece of clothing having the name of a color stitched onto a tag.

He didn't need colors in his life, and he knew perfectly well that the sky was mostly blue and grass was primarily green. Granted, it would be nice to _see_ each word and place his own definition behind it, and to be able to write without mixing up his black and red pens.

Soulmates never had a central focus in his job, either. Occasionally, there was the odd rumor - such as Maria Reynolds having more than one soulmate - but things like this were never proven to be true and Alex didn't particularly care for gossip, especially since he was focused enough on work to stay mostly clean of any whisperings.

Though, if Alex was to be involved in the discussion of the day, he knew full well that it would be entirely Jefferson's fault.

Since his fateful arrival four months prior, Alex had argued moreso than he had in his entire lifetime. At first, this was with the surprise to the colleagues that knew both Jefferson and Alex - for some bewildering reason, it was believed that they would get along. For the initial week, there was tension as Alex was busy working and Jefferson was occupied with being an arrogant ass (or '_socializing_', as Hercules diplomatically rephrased).

Then, after a staff meeting for the entire office was arranged, any illusions held by those hoping for a friendship between them was completely dropped as they were able to fight about damn near anything that was said.

From then on, their dislike developed into a healthy, mutual hatred that caused at least two arguments each day.

Most people knew to avoid situations when Alex might be forced to put up with Jefferson, but Washington seemed to decide that the vast difference of convictions would help both of them place forward stronger, well-rounded essays.

This was, naturally, an appauling idea. Alex could grudgingly allow the fact that it was successful, and he took grim satisfaction in slowly going through one of Jefferson's essays and highlighting every single thing wrong with it and returning said essay so thoroughly edited that Alex could barely read the original text.

Jefferson had (probably) started this particular branch of passive aggression and seemed more than content to retaliate with a likewise treatment. John seemed as indignant as Alex was at this behaviour, whereas Hercules was exasperated and Lafayette somehow found the entire situation amusing.

Jefferson's criticism was neither constructive nor wanted but in order for his essay to reach any higher-ups, he would have to put up with his bullshit until Jefferson (_hopefully_) became bored of making Alex's life difficult and moved away.

However, for now, Alex would have to endure Jefferson's ego and overall distasteful personality. He wasn't looking forward to it but it was a necessary evil and Alex was going to have to swallow his pride in order to advance further in his job.

Which was how he was in this situation, holding onto his first (and already highly edited) draft suggesting how the government can reallocate funding into education or something that wasn't utterly useless and unnecessary.

Alex reminded himself to keep his composure, no matter how infuriating Jefferson would act. A handful of curse words and insults weren't worth the disciplinary meeting that would be sure to follow.

Instead of knocking and waiting for a reply to be invited inside, Alex merely walked in the office, trying not to appear amused when Jefferson startled and seemed to therefore mess up whatever he was writing on a post-it note.

"Jefferson." Alex addressed him dryly.

"I didn't say you could come in here." Jefferson replied, sounding uninterested. He wasn't quite scowling as he removed the post-it note and started drawing neat, six-pointed stars underneath the text.

"It was implied." Alex retorted. Jefferson didn't respond, continuing his line of ink stars and likely knowing that Alex was beginning to get irritated at being blatantly ignored. He tried not to thin his lips, placing his essay down on the desk with enough force to cause Jefferson to raise an eyebrow. At least it succeeded in gaining his attention, and Jefferson glanced up, tapping his pen against the desk.

"Mature, as per usual." Jefferson observed. 

Alex felt the thin shards of his patience begin to fracture under the weight of Jefferson's patronizing. He gritted his teeth and continued reminding himself that he couldn't start fights if he wanted to advance. "Are you going to look through it?"

Jefferson gave it a short, appraising look. As though he was now bored with this line of conversion, he sighed, "Your name isn't printed on it, so no. I won't."

"You're fucking joking." Alex said flatly.

Jefferson smirked at Alex's frustration, which was now entirely evident. Rather slowly, as though spelling something out to a small child, "No."

Alex paused, surprised despite his better judgement. He gestured to the top corner of his essay, where both of them could clearly see his full name. "It's_ right there_, in my handwriting."

"It isn't printed." Jefferson offered a slight shrug as though he was capable of feeling sympathy, pushing Alex's essay away with a disinterested flick of his pen. Alex visibly bristled, and Jefferson added with a condescending tone, "Company procedures, Hamilton."

"Company procedures my ass." Alex snapped, temper finally running short. "Would it kill you to act like a decent human being, for once in your entire fucking life?"

Jefferson regarded him coolly, though his voice remained light and impassive, though Alex could now pick up on his thinly veiled agitation. "That was just uncalled for."

"I'm sorry, have I hurt your feelings?" Alex asked with an entirely false sincerity. He crossed his arms, remaining silent until Jefferson decided to bother with paying Alex some sort of attention.

"Hardly." Jefferson sneered. "Now take your goddamn file back and get out of my office."

When Alex didn't move to collect it, Jefferson exhaled forcefully, picking his essay up and pushing it into Alex's chest. Automatically, Alex caught it, fingers just barely brushing against Jefferson's hand.

The contact remained for a split second.

Then, Jefferson jerked away as though he had been burnt, eyes wide and showing far more expression than Alex originally thought capable of. His essay - previously held against his chest - fell lifelessly and forgotten to the floor.

Alex took half a step back, glancing around the room, but everything was blindingly bright and unrelenting, and certainly not the various greys that had clung to the corners mere seconds ago.

There was a pause and Alex slowly placed things together, stomach sickeningly sinking with dread. He would've taken another step back if he had the presence of mind to do so, but he merely stood still, rooted to the spot and allowing the silence to crush the room.

Then, suddenly, Jefferson spoke.

"Get out."

Alex blinked, finally jolted from his dazed reverie and faced with the task of dealing with _whatever_ _the fuck_ had just happened. Rather blankly, he asked, "What?"

"Get the fuck out of my office, Hamilton!" Jefferson snapped, raising his voice to a half-shout and Alex was once again stunned - out of them both, Alex tended to raise his voice in order to be heard and get his point across, but Jefferson stuck to a veneer of confidence and trusted that this would be enough to get people to listen.

"Fuck you." Alex's voice didn't sound vicious enough, still covered with a haze of shock. He was finally able to regain some semblance of control, backing away, tensed. Jefferson's expression was marked with different fleeting emotions, none of them staying long enough for Alex to decipher them.

Without another word, Alex left. He kept his eyes focused on the ground - a color he couldn't name, but it was pale and bright - and the route was almost second nature. It provided the needed reprieve from his thoughts, allowing himself to be clouded over with a hazy, blurry swirl of confusion and a jumble of words that couldn't be untangled.

The shock was beginning to set in. Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, the start of a headache making itself known, though he wasn't sure whether it was to do with the knowledge that he had found his _soulmate_, or the sudden influx of colors.

Alex wasn't sure what to do with any of this information and any potential answers or explanations slipped past him, leaving him with a disheartening blankness. No amount of pacing in his office could calm him down enough for him to understand the situation fully.

Rather gingerly, he settled the blinds, blocking the harsh brightness of the outside world and settling into a dark, muted color scheme. This succeeded in causing a marginal part of his headache to recede.

Then, Alex forced himself to reflect on _what the everloving fuck_ had just occurred. He wasn't able to put together a sentence that didn't contain a curse word, and he didn't care enough to stop himself from swearing.

He had met his soulmate.

His soulmate was Thomas Jefferson.

They shared such a severe animosity that it was commomplace to hear them arguing, and most people would barely blink at this.

Alex knew that it was misplaced, but it didn't stop resentment from curling around his throat. He couldn't let this - colors, soulmates, Jefferson - from fucking up his entire goddamn life. There was no point in continuing to reflect when the best course of action was to reject this development, to ignore it until it no longer felt like truth.

It didn't matter whether or not this was a healthy decision, and at that moment, it didn't matter. This was the safest option and for once, he wasn't interested in taking risks.

He tried to shrug the discomfort off to no avail. The next best thing to this was for Alex to distract himself as much as possible, which was how he spent the next hours or so searching up different colors, slowly adjusting to how different everything now was.

Towards the end of the day, when his anxiety had completely disappeared, he was beginning to wonder if what had happened was some accident, that Alex had met his soulmate hours before and it just took several moments for him to realise it.

Though, having this line of thought would soon bring up an answer in the negative; it had happened, and the expression that Jefferson had worn immediately after - almost like _betrayal_ \- was a certain indication.

It caused an uncomfortable feeling to emerge, similar to dread because Alex knew that, at some point, he was going to have to sort this mess out and hopefully leave unscathed and with his dignity intact. This was going to be next to impossible.

There was only one benefit, and that was naturally the addition of pigmentation. Alex spent the entire walk home in awe of how the city looked with an entire array of colors, or how much variety was held in just a square meter of the sky alone.

Despite the fact that Alex could tell there was a storm just over the horizon, he allowed himself to become fully occupied in the moment, thoughts of work and what happened gradually disappearing into a vague hum just ducking underneath his subconscious.

He was able to continue like this into the next day, and for a strange, dissociated and admittedly sleep deprived moment Alex had wondered if it had actually happened. A quick glance at his glaring alarm clock - red and black - told him that he hadn't.

This was an unexpected relief. He wasn't willing to give up color - at least, not yet, when everything was so _new_ and provided slight details that Alex had missed beforehand.

For the most part his hour of preparation was spent walking around his shitty apartment, admiring how the early morning casted it with a light yellow. At one point, he had held his coffee mug up to his face to compare the shade of brown against his eye, but after almost spilling some onto his hand, he was forced to stop.

He had also weighed up the pros and cons of calling into work sick, both to avoid any confrontation that he hadn't prepared fully for, and to continue exploring how _different _everything was. Though, this thought was quickly dismissed and he shrugged his satchel into a more comfortable position, tired despite the copious intake of caffeine.

The bus ride to his office was more or less the usual, exept Alex had missed his usual stop because he was distracted by how the world seemed to come to life with vibrancy, and promptly had to do the walk of shame for five minutes.

At least Alex always left for work early. He wouldn't be forced to jumble together a half-formed and unconvincing excuse, which would be a small sufferance in the grand scheme of things.

For the majority of morning, Alex was left to his own devices, occasionally having to ignore John whenever he tried to distract Alex. This was easier said than done since John knew what topics would draw his attention and wasn't afraid to use them.

By the time the first break finally arrived, Alex reluctantly allowed himself to be pried from his office by a rather insistant Hercules, who insisted that Alex would perish in a matter of seconds without some form of nourisment.

"I'll rest when I'm dead." Alex repeated to no avail. He only garnered a stern, unblinking glare from Hercules which caused him to relent, taking a small amount of comfort in the knowledge that a boost of caffeine would increase the speed of his working.

Hercules likely knew that his was the prime reason for Alex's relative agreeable acquisition but accepted it as compromise. As soon as they left Alex's office, John and Lafayette joined them, indicating that they were waiting for Alex to emerge.

John seemed to be the only person in their workplace who was able to wear casual clothes without being reprimanded, and Alex noted the blue hoodie as John spoke. "We were prepared to use necessary force."

"Of course you were." Alex shook his head, acting disappointed. Lafayette exchanged doubtful looks with Hercules but made no comment on it.

"Just because we care about your existence doesn't mean you have to act exasperated about it." John muttered, giving Alex a look that almost indicated a mild warning. Alex scoffed, added something under his breath that involved a handful of insults that was only noticed by John since he was paying attention.

The rest of the walk was brief and held in faux anger, Alex acting as though John had insulted his mother, and John behaving like Alex was seconds away from shouting. Before they entered the break room, John sent him a grin. "Oh, look, your best friend's here."

Alex frowned, following where John was looking, and for a quick second, he faltered. Logically, Alex knew that Jefferson wasn't as dedicated to work as Alex was, and that the break room was often used as a social gathering place. It didn't stop him from hesitating besides the doorway, suddenly and alarmingly unsure with what to do. Hercules caught this and gave Alex a rather curious look as John and Lafayette entered.

Alex avoided the look and entered after the other two, trying to keep neutral and hide any signs of his tension. Jefferson glanced at him and for a brief, painful moment they shared eye contact. There was a long pause. Then, without a word, Jefferson thinned his lips, sharply looking away and Alex felt his shoulders relax.

"I think someone's stolen your coffee again." Lafayette called from over his shoulder, drawing Alex away from the moment. Alex watched as Lafayette gave the almost empty container a slight shake. "It seems to have disappeared, which simply _couldn't_ be true, since you bought it three days ago."

Alex scoffed, taking the container from Lafayette. Granted, Alex might've had more coffee than usual, but Lafayette's joke was unoriginal and therefore becoming aged. Unfortunately, John still seemed to think that this was the funniest wisecrack of all time, grinning widely as he added a comment of his own.

For roughly ten minutes Alex was stuck trying to explain why everyone in the room was a disappointment apart from himself, trying valienty to dismiss the interruptions and protests that his friends added.

"_Mon Dieu_, I have never heard of such stupidity." Lafayette stated in a not-quite-whisper, exchanging a look with Hercules and causing Alex to scowl, indignant.

"I'm right, and you know I am." Alex insisted. There was a murmuring of doubt that Alex also dismissed, continuing his point with an added emphasis. "Just because you're jealous-"

John snorted.

"-doesn't mean you have to act petty." Alex finished, disregarding the interruption. Hercules huffed, and promptly succeeded in changing the direction of the conversation, which afforded Alex the freedom of only half-listening, occupied with his thoughts. Several minutes passed like this, in which break ended, and the occupants of the break room reluctantly dispersed.

When Alex glanced around, Jefferson was gone, and part of the unease weighing down his chest lightened.

Though, there was still a distinct sense of discomfort which Alex couldn't quite place. It followed him throughout the day, leaning against his shoulder and making it impossible to settle. Mostly, Alex was able to ignore it in favor of work, directing his attention upon the way each word and turn of phrase would appear when read.

He didn't notice the colors around him dimming. until there seemed to be a jerk of darkness. Alex winced, glancing around his workplace, and though everything was in place, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, _very_ wrong.

It was then that everything clicked into place and he understood what had happened. Pure, unadulterated panic clawed harshly at his throat. Air was forced out of his lungs in a wordless gasp and he bolted towards the door, not caring about the trails of paper falling in his wake.

The corridors - _grey_, bland, devoid of life - were mercifully vacant and Alex tried to remind himself to breathe, that the sudden monochromes didn't mean anything-

"Hamilton!"

Alex turned sharply and almost felt weak at the sheer force of relief he felt. Jefferson had a difficult expression to read, but despite this Alex could pick up on the anxiety and upon noticing this, Alex wanted to soothe this and reassure Jefferson, to make sure Jefferson was _safe_-

"What the _fuck?"_ Alex asked, taking a step back. Jefferson didn't answer, staring at Alex in shock and for a brief second Alex panicked, wondering if he had voiced his previous thoughts.

Jefferson mutely shook his head, tensing, and Alex knew why; another wave of stress had hit them both, and Alex was again struck with the urge to reassure himself that Jefferson was there, that he could feel the lack of color as keenly as Alex did.

"I knew about withdrawals, but I didn't know they could be..." Jefferson trailed off, voice dazed.

Alex glanced up sharply. "Withdrawals?"

For a brief second, the senselessness of the entire situation vanished and Jefferson looked at him blankly for several seconds. Then, as though gauging Alex's sincerity, he smirked slightly, seemingly placated at knowing something Alex didn't. In a calm, almost conversational tone, he inquired, "You don't know?"

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Shut the fuck up!"

Jefferson's smirk only seemed to broaden at this, and he went to retort to Alex's protest but another crash of unneeded adrenaline hit and both of them flinched in response and Alex instinctively reached out, unthinking trying to assist. Jefferson didn't seem to notice the touch and minutely relaxed. Tersely, "If you reject your soulbond, then your colors go."

"Then why did I-" Alex sharply cut himself off, slowly realising that Jefferson's eyes were beginning to soften from varying shades of color. Whether or not Jefferson noticed this change, Alex couldn't tell. He glanced down at where his hand was clasped over Jefferson's wrist, keeping Jefferson close to him. He recoiled, alarmed, unable to recall when he made that movement.

The world stayed colorful and Alex took a second to stare.

"There isn't much research." Jefferson eventually stated, eyes fixed on the wall to Alex's left and there was an undercurrent of bitterness to his words. "Normally, people are _happy_ with their soulmates."

"I never _wanted_ this." Alex scowled, defensive at Jefferson's tone of voice. Jefferson squared his jaw, expression flicking and Alex continued to press, set on gaining some sort of reaction. "I don't want you."

"You think I don't know that?" Jefferson hissed, eyes narrowed. Alex unflinchingly held his glare. "Nobody gives a fuck about what _you_ want, Hamilton."

Alex paused at the cold, almost unrecognizable infliction on these words. He had heard that type of tone before, but only rarely, and it was almost entirely after Alex had said something too vicious and would come to regret - only _slightly_ \- later that day. Alex took a step back, furthering the distance between them. "How long will the withdrawals last?"

"I don't know." Jefferson said. His voice no longer held the icy, fraught note, but it was now devoid from any of the emotions that Alex didn't realise he was listening for. An uncomfortable silence pushed between them, one that Alex was strongly inclined to break but made no action to do so.

With a soft, barely perceivable sigh, Jefferson adjusted his blazer before turning smartly on his heel and walking away. Alex followed him with his eyes, leaning against a nearby wall and slowly processing everything that had just taken place.

Once he was sure that his colors wouldn't suddenly flicker out of existence, Alex slowly made his way back to his office. Like yesterday, he was thankful that he was ahead of his work load, and would be able to spend his time researching whatever the fuck had just happened.

Despite Jefferson's insistance that not much was known on the subject, there seemed to be a copious amount of articles. Alex stepped past the over dramatized stories, attempting to find an articulate anecdote or study, eventually settling for one on a specialist site.

_Withdrawals, or Soul-Separation, is a process in which one or all members of a shared bond reject their soulmate. It was often used as a Medieval torture, but now is recognized as an unlawful form of punishment in all excluding three countries. Researchers agree that withdrawals should only be endured in extreme and unlikely circumstances (e.g; abuse, adultery, when a match is not accepted by one or all parties involved)._

Alex shifted slightly, unappeased. There was no timescale to inform him how long he would have to deal with the side affects of ignoring Jefferson, so he could only hope that it would last a day or so. Simultaneously, however, Alex wasn't ready to lose his colors and was willing to hazard a guess that Jefferson wasn't either.

Though, Alex didn't want to talk to Jefferson directly when unprovoked. After the embarrassment of instinctively reaching to him without being consciously aware of it, Alex didn't particularly want to talk to Jefferson in general, even if he was insulted.

Fortunately, he wasn't, and Jefferson seemed willing to employ the same method of coping as Alex was, so awkward conversation and rejection on both sides would not be required. Alex cursed his bad luck to thin air and there was no reply.

Whilst it was true that Alex wasn't particularly interested in having a soulmate, he hadn't necessarily been disinterested, either. He had always assumed that it would be a bridge to cross if he ever got to it, but he hadn't expected this, and there was no guarantee that either of them would survive this unscathed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey bros just here to inform you that I dislocated my gknee on the first day back in school, and then had to call an ambulance myself because nobody was around to help. So sad #tragic
> 
> Also, I'm sorry both flr this piece of trash and that I will be slow to update as there's... a lot of exams now :(


End file.
